Arrows amour
by artemisgirl
Summary: Professor Delacour's brilliant plan for Valentine's Day has an unexpected result for Draco Malfoy: a besotted Hermione following him around like a puppy. Short piece of fun Dramione fluff in time for the holiday.


**A/N: Many thanks to Krystle for betaing!**

**Arrows amour**

"And zee valentines will be delivered at breakfast every morning," Professor Delacour continued, beaming. "Zat way, you will have a whole week to geeve your lovely a gift!"

"I'd like to give _her_ a gift," Theo muttered from next to Draco. Draco elbowed him, rolling his eyes, while Blaise stifled a chuckle.

"Don't forget: zee Valentine's Day Ball will be 'eld on Zaturday, ze 14th," she continued. "Eet is open to zee entire school. No age-restrictions. And lastly..."

She paused.

"Eet has come to my attention that at 'ogwarts, eet is tradition for ze men to pursue ze women, and zat ze other way 'round is unacceptable," she pronounced. "Zees, of course, is ridiculous. So now, I have cupids to fix zees problem!"

She gestured, and the hall was suddenly filled with small, fluttering fairies, armed with red and white bows and arrows. The fairies shrieked loudly and dove, and the Great Hall erupted into chaos, students trying to duck and dodge the onslaught.

"Zees arrows will help you tell ze boy you like zat you like 'im! Or make you fancy a new one, perhaps." Professor Delacour's voice rang out over the madness. "Zhey will only affect ze girls! So now... equal playing field, _non?_ Boys, do not forget to pursue your own Valentines as well!"

The clock chimed, and there was a mad scramble for the doors of the Great Hall to get to classes.

"Only affects the girls, eh?" Blaise said to Draco as they fell into line. "Think Pansy'll use the excuse to hang on you even more?"

"If anything, this will help me get _rid_ of her," Draco shot back. "She has to act on her feelings, right? And she's only ever been interested in me for my money and name. Hopefully, she'll go get off with Goyle."

They sniggered as they filed into the hall, neither seeing the evaluating, curious gaze of one Gryffindor girl boring into their backs, a small golden arrow sticking out of her back.

* * *

"Malfoy?"

Draco turned away from Blaise and Theo to see Hermione Granger waiting for him outside the doorway of the classroom, gnawing her lip anxiously. He raised an eyebrow at her, then turned to his friends and rolled his eyes.

"You two go on ahead," he told them. "I'll see you at lunch after Runes."

Granger watched as his friends and the rest of their classmates left before finally turning back, her eyes looking up at him.

"_Well?_" he drawled.

Granger turned pink.

"I... I wanted to offer to carry your books," she said, obviously embarrassed. "To your next class."

Draco blinked, then blinked again.

"Wait, _what?_" he asked, incredulous.

"I wanted to carry your books," she said again, turning pinker. "We both have Ancient Runes after Charms, so I thought I'd just hang back and offer..." She trailed off, looking at the floor, the tips of her ears turning bright pink.

Draco stared at her.

"Granger," he said. "You do realize you've got three times the books I've got?"

Letting out a small 'eep' of embarrassment, Hermione hurriedly shoved the six books she had in her arms into her book bag, which was slung over her shoulder, already bursting at the seams. She hauled the thing back over her back and looked back up at Draco, offering him a smile.

"Now I haven't," she said. "So... your books?"

She gestured to him, and, astonished, Draco handed over his texts. Hermione took them gingerly, visibly weighed down by her load, before looking back up at him and beaming, momentarily throwing Draco. He hadn't realized how pretty she was when she smiled.

"Well, then," she said, shifting her rucksack. "Shall we?"

Incredulously, Draco followed after her as she led him up the stairs towards the Ancient Runes classroom, holding his books in her hands.

* * *

"She did _what?_"

"She carried my books," Draco repeated, over Blaise's laughter. "I haven't the slightest idea _why_, but it was kind of funny, seeing her staggering under all that weight up five floors. And then when we got there, she just put them on my desk, said 'have a nice day' and ran over to her desk."

"I can't believe it!" Theo roared, laughing. "Just like a little dog! Serving its master!"

Blaise and Theo continued laughing while Draco rolled his eyes, grinning at them, before they all settled down.

"Seriously though," Draco said, assembling himself a sandwich. "What the hell's up with Granger? She didn't tamper with my books like I thought, and she's not the type to suddenly accept Pureblood superiority."

Theo sniggered, but Blaise looked thoughtful.

"You know," Blaise said, pointing at Draco with his fork, "I bet she got shot."

"Shot?"

"Yeah, with one of Professor Delacour's cupid arrows," he said. "She said they could make girls start fancying boys for the rest of the week, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Theo chimed in. "They do that, or make the girl let the guy she fancies know that she like him. So she might have liked you before this," Theo said, nudging Draco with his elbow. "Fancy that, the Mudblood Queen fancying the Pureblood Prince and now having to admit it? Ha!"

Theo and Blaise both laughed, but the laugh didn't reach Blaise's eyes, Draco noticed. If anything, he looked... _jealous?_

"Whatever it is, I suppose you'll find out soon enough," Theo said, slapping Draco on the back. "It lasts a full two weeks, remember?"

Draco looked down at his food.

"I suppose it does."

* * *

"Malfoy?"

Draco turned to see Hermione Granger looking at him, a nervous smile on her lips. He sighed.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I might carry your books," she said.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Classes are over, Granger," he pointed out.

"Yes," she said. "But you might want to go to the Library or to dinner or where ever, and you'll be needing to take your books with you, so I thought I'd volunteer to carry your books there for you."

"Yes, but we're not going to the same place this time," Draco said, incredulous. "What if I wanted to go to my common room? You'd have to haul my books and yours all the way down to the dungeons, and then haul yours all the way back up to the library."

Hermione turned pink but said nothing. Draco stared at her, astonished, watching as she stared back at him defiantly.

"...fine," he conceded. "I was going to the library anyway. That's bound to be where you're off to, isn't it?"

Hermione beamed at him and took his books from him, happily trotting after him as he headed up the stairs.

* * *

"Hello, Malfoy."

"Granger."

"I was wondering if..."

"Look, I'm in a bit of a hurry today," Draco said, climbing up the stairs. "How about I carry my books today, and you carry yours, and we just walk together, okay?"

Hermione looked thrown by this.

"But... it doesn't work like that," she said. "I'm... when you... someone's supposed to carry the other's books..."

Draco rolled his eyes, mentally wondering what the hell Professor Delacour had put into those arrows to cause Granger's brain to short out.

"Then how about this," Draco said carefully. "I'll carry _your_ books, and you can walk me to class. That'll work, right?"

Hermione brightened.

"Okay!" she said.

And she fell into place beside him, smiling happily.

It was odd, to see her looking happy at being next to _him._

"So, Granger," Draco found himself saying. "What prompted the urge to carry my books?"

To his astonishment, Granger shrugged.

"Oh, I just thought it'd be nice to help you," she said easily. "And it was a good way to help you, I thought, and then I'd get to see you, so that'd be good too."

"To see me?" Draco repeated.

Hermione flushed.

"Well, you're very handsome," she said, blushing. "It's always enjoyable to see you."

That pronouncement left Draco speechless the rest of the way to Charms.

* * *

"You know, you don't _have_ to wait for me here," Draco told Hermione, who was playing idly with a quill. "I'll be at the library a long time. And I can carry my own books back when I'm done, you know."

"Oh, I don't mind," she hastily assured him. "Take your time."

Draco sighed.

"Don't you have homework of your own to work on?" he asked.

"It's okay – I'll do it later," Hermione told him.

"No, really," Draco said. "Here."

He pushed over his books to take up less of the table and shifted his parchment over, making a large empty space.

"You get out your potions things too, and we can _both_ work on Snape's essay," he told her. "That's better than waiting for me and doing nothing, right?"

Hermione looked uncertain.

"It's good to do things together, isn't it?" Draco prompted. "If you like me, you'd want to do things with me to spend time with me, not just stare at me silently, right?"

Hermione's face flamed, but she didn't deny it.

"Then let's just work together on this essay," he said, sliding a chair over for her. "We can help each other. Maybe we'll be able to get it done sooner if we collaborate."

Slowly, Hermione settled into the chair next to him, her thigh pressing against his for a moment before she shifted over and blushed.

"Okay," she said, hesitant. "Where do you want to start?"

"How about with the Draught of Living Death?"

Hermione considered, nodded, and then took a deep breath, launching into an explanation of the different ways the Draught might be compromised by faulty ingredients.

Over the next two hours, Draco found himself engaged and entertained as he debated with her, countering her arguments with ones of his own. Her idea about fluxweed was all wrong, obviously, but she had fairly valid points about the age of the dragon scales needed for mixing ingredients in. And she was passionate about it, he could tell – she was kind of cute, her face all flushed, her hair a mess, and her eyes alight as she pointed out where he was wrong. She was acting more like herself, too – less like a lovesick school-girl, and more like the know-it-all Granger he'd come to expect.

"You cannot seriously think that the decay will have no effect on the ashwinder eggs!" Hermione argued. "Normal eggs go bad after a certain time, right, Malfoy? Why wouldn't those of the ashwinder?"

"I suppose you're right," Draco conceded. He paused. "Draco."

Hermione was gearing herself up for another tirade, but faltered, caught off-guard.

"...what?"

"Draco," he told her again. "My name is Draco."

As he watched, a change came over Hermione. Her face pinkened, her hand coming up to twirl a lock of her hair by her face, and she blushed deeply as she looked up at him hesitantly from under her eyelashes, making Draco's heart stick in his throat.

"Only if you call me Hermione," she said, blushing brilliantly.

It was uncanny, seeing the brainy Hermione Granger he knew vanish into this simpering, sickeningly-sweet girl so suddenly.

"Hermione, then," Draco said decisively. "Now, as you were saying?"

At his prompting, she went on, explaining how best to tell if eggs and ashwinder eggs were still good by submerging them in water, though she faltered over his name, pink once again tingeing her cheeks whenever she did so. Her embarrassment lessened over time, though, until she was saying his first name as though she'd said it all her life.

By the time they were both done with their essays, Draco had written a good foot longer than was required, and it was all _good,_ too, for once. Hermione had written an extra three feet, but Draco suspected that was probably customary for her.

"That worked out well," Draco said as he leaned back, satisfied.

Hermione was considering her own essay, sucking on the end of her quill thoughtfully.

"You had some really good points about fluxweed and the nature of herbs," she commented. "I didn't expect that from you, Draco."

She looked over at him, her eyes scrutinizing, and suddenly Draco felt like the real Hermione was looking at him, not the silly love-struck one that had followed him around all day.

"Do you want to meet here again tomorrow night?" he blurted out. "We can help each other with the Transfiguration essay."

Hermione looked surprised, then pleased.

"I suppose that'd be good," she said, considering. She looked at him ruefully. "You undoubtedly have something to prove me wrong about regarding Cross-switching spells as well."

Draco laughed, and Hermione laughed as well, before stopping and staring at him, her wide eyes stuck to his face.

Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" he snapped.

Hermione shook her head, as if coming out of a daze.

"It's just... you look very approachable, when you laugh," she said. "Less angry at the world and more... human."

She looked uncomfortable, but her face remained lily-white, and Draco stared at her, astonished.

"I..."

She didn't finish the thought. As Draco watched once more, Hermione suddenly became shy and blushed at his gaze.

"Shall I carry your books back to your common room?" she asked.

Draco felt his heart sink.

"I can get them," he told her, standing. "Really."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Hermione said, blushing. "I don't mind at all."

She hefted her own books over her shoulder and carried Draco's in her hands as they went down the many, many staircases to the Slytherin common room in silence.

"Here we are," Hermione said brightly, giving him back his books. "Good night, Draco."

"G'night, Hermione," he said, and she blushed, her cheeks pink as she turned to go.

"Wait," Draco called out on an impulse, and Hermione turned. "I'll see you tomorrow? At the library? For Transfiguration?"

He held his breath as she looked back at him, before shaking her head, smiling.

"Of course, silly," she said, smiling at him happily. "I'll want to carry your books."

* * *

"She's _still_ carrying your books?" Blaise hissed at him, as Hermione flounced over to the Gryffindor table at breakfast. "Even up from _the common room_?"

"Every time I tell her no, she looks like she's about to cry!" Draco shot back. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Turn her down. Reject her," Blaise said promptly. "She'll be heart-broken and devastated, but she'll get over it, and she'll be glad she didn't humiliate herself more in the long run."

"I can't do that," Draco objected. "She's in a spell-induced infatuation. She might kill herself or something if I turn her down."

"Well, that'll end at midnight during the Valentine's Day ball," Blaise scoffed. "The second that happens, she'll be out for blood, you know. First Professor Delacour, then you."

"Oh, shut up."

Blaise's words hung in his mind as he ate his eggs, though. What would Hermione think after the arrow-charm finally wore off?

* * *

"Draco!"

"Hermione," Draco greeted her smoothly. "Thanks for all your help with Transfiguration last night."

Hermione faltered a moment, her blushing cheeks fading, before she shot him a grin.

"Thanks for nothing from you," she said, smirking. "You're hopeless at Transfiguration. I'm surprised you managed to scrape by with an O.W.L."

"Hey, it's not my fault!" Draco protested, his voice teasing. "Not everyone's the professor's pet, and I can't be perfect at _everything_."

Hermione snorted. "Perfect? _You?_ Please."

As he wound his way through the corridor with Hermione next to him, Draco was pleased that as long as he kept the normal Hermione engaged in conversation, the shy, silly Hermione didn't show up. The real Hermione seemed too busy with keeping up with his barbs and taunts to be shy and blush all over the place, and it was with a definite sense of pride that Draco arrived at Divination, his own books firmly in his hands.

"Well, my class is here," he said. "I'll be seeing you later, Hermione."

He quickly scurried up the rope ladder. He glanced back briefly, seeing Hermione looking very confused, staring at her empty hands, before wobbling off toward the spiral staircase once more, and he quickly shut the trap door.

"You did not come alone today, Draco," Professor Trelawny said, her voice airy and mystical. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know," he said dismissively, hurrying to his seat. "A friend came up with me, and..."

"I sensed not one being with you, but two," Professor Trelawny pronounced. "And you say you came with one? Interesting..."

She wandered off toward her lectern, weaving between all the round tables, leaving Draco to sit at his table and frown at his crystal ball, Hermione's blushing face swimming inside his mind.

* * *

"You're absolutely ridiculous!" Hermione raged at him, shoving him as they went down the stairs. "How can you possibly think of Divination as a valid form of study?"

"It's just as real as Potions," Draco argued back. "It's just harder to get the hang of. There are real prophecies, Hermione. Divination is real."

"Prophecies? Please," Hermione snorted inelegantly. "Harry had one of those, you know – predicted he and Voldemort would have some final dramatic showdown where they both died and whatnot."

"And...?"

"_And_, Voldemort died from being struck by lightning, as you well know," Hermione said primly. "Dumbledore and Harry and the rest of them had something to do with it, surely, but there was definitely no dramatic final showdown."

"But some prophecies _are_ real," Draco argued. "Just not all of them."

"If I make a million guesses about the future, statistically, some of them are _bound_ to be right-"

Snape swept into the room, robes billowing, and slammed the door behind him. Instantly, both he and Hermione fell silent, looking at each other with growing horror.

"Your essays were adequate," Snape pronounced with a disgusted look. "As such, you are now at least _prepared_ to brew the Draught of Living Death with sub-standard ingredients. With your partners, I expect a base at stable stage 3 by the end of the class."

Hermione's eyes were huge, and her cheeks were starting to turn pink, Draco saw in horror. They'd been too busy arguing to realize that they were at the same brewing station, making them partners for the class. From across the room, Blaise smirked at him and offered him a jaunty salute, and Draco scowled.

"We- we have to brew the potion?" Hermione said, her voice unnaturally high. "_T-Together?_"

Her face darkened even further, her blush a bright fuchsia, and Draco panicked.

"We're on a deadline, Granger," he snapped under his breath. "Make yourself useful and go get the best ingredients, before the others. Make sure you get the best stuff – everything's defective in this class, remember? And getting sub-par stuff could be fatal."

Hermione's eyes snapped back to his face, her gaze alert. "Right."

She marched off, hurrying to the supply cabinet, and Draco let out a relieved sigh as she fought past Ernie to get in first.

Now he'd just have to keep her angry and alert the whole rest of the double-class.

He bit back a groan.

_Riiiight._

* * *

"I can't believe you said that!" Hermione laughed as she walked him to Ancient Runes. "That was brilliant! Completely, utterly brilliant!"

She was laughing, and her eyes were sparkling and _alive_, not the glassy, misted-over look she had so often these days. She was laughing, her eyes dancing and her lips red and her skin flushed from her laughter, and Draco was struck with how utterly enchanting she was.

"Hermione."

Before she could react, he pulled her into an alcove in the hallway, out of the flow of traffic.

"Come to the ball with me?"

Hermione stared.

"What...?"

"Not 'what', just 'yes' or 'no'," Draco said quickly. "Hurry, give me an answer – quick quick quick!"

"Yes, I suppose," Hermione said, looking puzzled. "But Draco, I don't understand why-"

In his euphoria, Draco swept Hermione into a hug, holding her close, his books in the other arm. _She said yes! The real one, not the stupid, dippy, silly falling-all-over-herself one-_

"Draco!"

Biting back a groan, Draco pulled away to see Hermione looking at him, her cheeks a brilliant pink.

"This is a little public for such an embrace," she said embarrassedly, putting her hands to her flaming cheeks. "But it's sweet of you to care so much."

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking his books from him, and Draco closed his eyes and silently counted to ten before following her up the last set of stairs.

* * *

"So... you're taking her to the Ball?"

"Yes," Draco said shortly, straightening his hair.

"...even though she's going to snap out of it at midnight and think you've just been making fun of her this whole time?"

Draco groaned. "_Yes_, Blaise, for the thousandth time, yes. I _know_ it's stupid, but..."

"But she got under your skin, didn't she?" Blaise said, nodding slowly. "You can't help it, can you? Having a pretty girl dote on you like that?"

"That's not it at all," Draco objected, pulling on his dress robes. "It's just..."

He paused. How could he explain? Over the past week, it'd seemed like he'd gotten to know the _real_ Hermione, in spite of the silly, love-sick one that followed him around. He'd been captivated as she argued with him, spellbound as she put him in his place over potions. He'd been interested by her cares and passions, and enchanted by her sparkling eyes and her smile.

"It just _is_, okay?"

"Better you than me, bub," Blaise said, shrugging. "Just be sure you're not sexing her up when midnight rolls around – she'll _kill_ you, you realize."

"I know," Draco said, running a hand through his hair. "I know, okay? I know."

* * *

"Draco!"

Draco refused to turn.

"Draco! Draco, it's me-"

"Quick: what are the twelve uses of dragon's blood?" Draco asked her, not turning around, and he could almost _hear_ Hermione falter.

"They're – um – well, there's the strength enhancing potion, which is crucial for coma victims who have yet to come out of their comas, then there's a base for all B-style potions, and an acid to kill fireslugs..."

Sighing with relief, Draco turned and gasped.

Hermione was wearing a gown of deep red that was tight all through the bodice and flared out from the hips, making a dramatic A-line silhouette. The neckline was cut daringly low, cleavage Draco hadn't realized she had on display. Her hair was half-up and half-down, curled into sensual waves and ringlets, and her eyes were dusted with a faint golden shimmer and something smoky-looking.

She looked _amazing_.

"-and oven cleaner," Hermione finished. She blinked several times, looking confused, before looking up at Draco, her face flushing pink. "Right?"

Draco sighed. "Right. Good job, Hermione."

"Do you like my dress?" Hermione asked, doing a twirl and giggling a bit. "I wanted to get something a bit poofier and pink, but Ginny talked me out of it-"

_Thank Merlin for the Weaselette_, Draco through fervently. _I was terrified she'd wear pink-_

"-and into this one instead. I think it looks nice. Don't you?"

She smiled at him and fluttered her eyelashes as she dipped him a curtsey, and Draco bit back a wince.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," he told her. "C'mon, let's go in."

He led her into the ball, acutely aware of all the stares digging into them from both sides.

* * *

By half past eleven, Draco's guilt was warring with his desire.

Hermione, it seemed, had learned to dance in the analytical part of her mind, and whenever they danced together, she seemed somewhat more normal, though the instant they stopped, the dazed, shy expression came back over her eyes. Desperate not to have to deal with the simpering, over-flattering fool if he didn't have to, Draco had engaged her for nearly every dance, even the ones he didn't properly know how to do.

Hermione was beautiful when she was dancing. She was relaxed and confident on the ballroom floor, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she twirled and spun about, and she was sinfully sensual as she glided and flicked her hips, her eyes smoldering at him as they danced the tango. She was laughing and happy as they danced the macarena, as covered by the Weird Sisters, and she was soft and content as they did a slow dance together, though Draco was desperate to keep her mind engaged by swaying to a polyphonic rhythm step.

Now, though, she was getting tired, and Draco was rather drained himself, and as he handed her a drink, he watched as the pink blush settled itself down over her face once more, and she giggled softly, embarrassedly, as she took the glass of punch from him and put it to her lips.

With a sigh, Draco glanced at the clock. He has fifteen minutes left. Midnight couldn't come soon enough.

"I'm having such a lovely time, Draco," Hermione said, blushing. "I never thought you'd invite me to the ball! But I'm thrilled that you did! I was so excited, I had to go and get a dress and had to-"

Draco mentally groaned and tuned her out, taking the opportunity to look around the ballroom instead.

Blaise was off dancing with Pansy, though he didn't looked pleased about it. He met Draco's eyes and raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the clock, and Draco scowled at him and moved on, his eyes casting about the room.

Potter and Weasley were looking at him darkly, but both looked resigned as they watched Hermione prattle on to him. Dumbledore was smiling at everyone benignly, but Professor Delacour's eyes were on his, Draco realized with surprise, and looking at him with an expectant gaze.

Draco glanced up at the clock again. Ten minutes to midnight.

"Hermione," he said. "Will you come outside with me for a moment?"

"To the rose gardens? Draco, I'd _love_ to."

She bounced to her feet, making Draco winced. Taking her hand, he led her outside and through a few bends in the garden.

"This is beautiful, isn't it Draco?" Hermione batted her lashes at him. "This is so romantic."

Draco glanced at his watch. There were only five minutes to go. He sighed.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"Will you dance with me?" he asked. "Right here?"

Hermione's face colored brilliantly. "I- I'd love to, Draco."

He took her right hand in his left, his other hand encircling her waist, and led her into a silent dance.

Draco could see the confusion warring on Hermione's face. It wasn't a particularly complicated dance Draco had picked – a variation of a waltz – but he was deliberately moving in an unconventional manner to keep her on her toes. Sure enough, Hermione gave up trying to pretend she could follow easily and started watching his feet with a scowl on concentration, and Draco's tension eased.

He glanced up at the clock on the tower. With one minute to go, his time was nearly up.

"Hermione?"

"What, Draco?" she bit out, watching his feet.

"Please don't hate me in a minute. But this might be the only chance I get."

She glanced up at him quizzically. "Draco, what-"

He caught her cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

Her lips were soft and sweet, her mouth slightly open from her words. His tongue swept across her lips, and she made a soft noise, opening her mouth more and winding her arms around him. Draco groaned as he kissed her deeper, his tongue gently touching hers, coaxing a soft moan from her, before he pulled back slowly, both of them short of breath.

Hermione's face was flushed, but Draco couldn't tell if it was from the arrow or the kiss.

"Draco... Draco, I-"

There was a _dong_.

Draco looked up at the clock.

Midnight.

He turned back to watch.

It was incredible to watch. One moment, Hermione had been blushing, about to say something after their first kiss. Now, with each successive _dong_, an odd expression was settling down onto Hermione's face – one that looked worryingly self-aware.

With the final _dong_, Hermione's eyes snapped up to his. Draco met her gaze steadily.

This time, her gaze wasn't enraptured. It was wide, almost terrified, and even as she looked at him, her cheeks flared – not with girlish shyness, this time, Draco could tell, but with mortification.

"Hermione," Draco tried to tell her. "Hermione, it's okay-"

She turned tail and ran, her red dress a flash in the night.

Draco sighed and sat down heavily on a bench in the garden.

* * *

"So she ran away?"

"Not before looking like she wanted to die of embarrassment," Draco said dully, poking his breakfast sausage with his fork.

"Can you _blame_ her?" Blaise laughed. "After the way she trailed after you for two weeks?"

"At least she didn't hex you," Theo pointed out. "You'll notice Professor Delacour isn't even _here_ this morning."

"I was kind of hoping she _would _hex me," Draco admitted. "At least then I'd get a chance to _talk _to her about all this."

He'd wanted to talk to her desperately. He wanted to tell her how somewhere along the line, he'd grown to care for her, the _real_ her, and ask her to Hogsmeade in two weeks. He'd hoped she'd be able to see that he hadn't taken advantage of her or tried to embarrass her at all, and that she might – just might – be willing to give him a chance.

He scoffed at his plate. His hopes didn't have a chance in Hell.

"I guess it must have been one of those infatuation arrows, not one of the act-on-who-you-fancy arrows," Blaise said, taking a bite of toast.

He looked quite pleased at the thought for some reason. Draco scowled.

"I'd figured _that_ out when she started acting so weirdly," he snapped. "Please. Like Hermione Granger would admit her feelings to a guy by going barmy and all silly-"

"Malfoy?"

Draco whipped his head up to see Hermione Granger, who was looking down at him.

"I need to speak with you, when you have a moment," she informed him, her head held high. "I'll be in the Entrance Hall."

She turned, tossing her head, and strode away. The three boys watched her go.

"What's all that about?" Theo ventured. "Surely she's not going to hex you in public view?"

"She's probably just going to give me a semi-public reaming for all the embarrassment," Draco said, getting to his feet. "If you see red sparks, though, come running."

Blaise snickered. "Good luck."

Draco went out to the entrance-way of the Great Hall, to see Hermione waiting for him.

"Draco," she said.

"Hermione."

She gave him a careful once-over, and Draco was careful to keep his expression ambiguous.

"It has come to my attention that over the past couple weeks, things have not been exactly... _fair_ between us," she said, fixing him with a look.

Draco looked at her incredulously. "_Fair?_ Hermione, I swear, I wasn't trying to embarrass you-"

"As such," Hermione said loudly, steamrolling over him. "I only think it fair to rectify the unfairness now."

A stack of books was promptly shoved towards him. Draco blinked, staring, before looking up at her, puzzled.

Hermione's cheeks colored slightly this time, but she met his eyes firmly, though her gaze was soft.

"I think it'd time you carried my books for a change, don't you?"

A blooming, happy feeling filled Draco up, and he grabbed her books eagerly from her, taking her book bag too, unable to keep a wide grin from spreading across his face. Hermione laughed. Draco's face flushed in response, embarrassed from his eagerness, but he couldn't help himself.

"Does this mean I get to call you my valentine?" he teased her, and Hermione's cheeks colored beautifully in response.

"No," she shot back, smiling. "But if you're lucky, I might just let you call me your girlfriend."

With a feather-light charm (or two or three) on her book bag, Draco and Hermione set off for the library, both smiling and hand in hand.


End file.
